Life and Death: Re-Envisioned
by Joeybird
Summary: When Edythe Masen moves to the gloomy town of Forks and meets the strange yet alluring Beaufort Swan, her life takes a thrilling and terrifying turn. With his pale skin, golden eyes, mesmerizing voice, and supernatural gifts, Beau is both irresistible and impenetrable. Up until now, Beau has managed to keep his true identity a secret, but Edythe is determined to uncover it.
1. Preface

**DISCLAIMER:** _This is merely a rewrite of the original Life and Death book for fun. It will mainly follow the original plot line, but obviously have many changes due to how different Edythe and Beau's personalities can be._

 _All rights go to Stephanie Meyer (and all that jazz)._

* * *

 **Preface**

* * *

Dying wasn't something I had ever given much thought. I'd always foolishly assumed that when my time came, it would be swift and painless. Tragically, I was wrong.

I felt my lip quiver in pain once again as I adjusted myself, trying to shift into a position which put the least amount of pressure on my already shattered leg. My hate-filled eyes glared at the hunter from across the room; their face showing that sickeningly wicked smile that made my stomach flip inside out.

If I had never come to Forks, I knew I would have never been facing the crushing fate that I was now, but strangely enough, I didn't regret it one bit. Sure, I was angry at the outcome – who wouldn't be? When you're offered something so inconceivable, it was far from irrational to be devastated when you knew it was coming to an end. And yet, above all this, I also felt peace.

The hunter's smile widened as they strolled forward to kill me.


	2. First Sight

**First Sight**

* * *

 _January 17_ _th_ _, 2005_

THE COOL WINTER AIR HIT MY SKIN AS I SAUNTERED DOWN the steps of the porch before swiftly turning on my heels to take one final look at the home I'd grown up in. The moment didn't last as long as I wanted to however, as my mother shouted out to me once more from the car.

The drive to the airport was silent. Though my mother acted like she was pretending to focus all of her attention on the icy roads, I could tell she didn't want to talk about what was happening, so I merely did the same, leaning onto the window's ledge, feeling my skin press up against the icy cool glass as I watched the streets of Chicago flash by in a daze. I was wearing my favorite shirt – a white Henley with the sleeves rolled up to my elbows. A rain coat sat in my lap.

In the north-western Washington state, a small town named Forks existed under a near constant cover of clouds and rain. My mother had fled from this town's depressing gloom (and her husband) with me under her wing when I was just an infant. It was this small town in which I had visited my father every summer up until I turned fourteen – that's when my mother had enough, and forced him to vacation with me in Chicago instead.

It was the town of Forks that I was now finding myself sent to. But of course, it _was_ self-imposed. I had been on the edge for a while, but I finally made the decision when I caught my mother crying on the phone, talking to her newly wedded husband about how much she missed him. He was a minor-league baseball player, so he traveled a lot.

"Edythe…" my mother said to me before I walked through the metal detectors. "You really don't have to do this."

But I did. Otherwise, my mother would be stuck living with me instead of being with her husband, and we both knew she didn't want this no matter how much she tried to deny it.

I'd always been good at reading people. Something I developed at a young age, and while it came in handy quite a bit, sometimes I wished that there was a way to turn it off. I'd always feel the need to be selfless in situations such as this, and while it wasn't a bad thing for others, it certainly wasn't a good thing for myself.

"Mom, I promise I'll be fine," I lied.

She stared at me for a moment before she sighed. "Tell Edward I said hi."

"I will." I gave her a smile.

"Just know you can come home whenever you want – I'll come back and be with you."

I could see the look in her eyes when she said this, and I knew that it was something she didn't want.

"Okay." I simply said.

She embraced me in a tight hug, obviously grateful for what I was doing. I walked through the metal detectors, and when I glanced back, she was gone.

It was a four and a half hour flight from Chicago to Seattle, an hour in a small plane up to Port Angeles, and then another hour drive back down to Forks.

My father had been really nice about the whole thing. He seemed genuinely happy I was coming to live with him semi-permanently. He had called me the day before saying he'd already got me signed up for school, and when I mentioned buying a car, he became weirdly nervous. I suspected that he might already have something planned.

I watched out the tiny window as the plane descended into the clouds above Port Angeles. The first thing I noticed was the rain. This wasn't an omen or anything, just unavoidable. When the plane landed, I packed up my minimal things before walking off, feeling slightly stiff.

Exiting the airport, I immediately spotted Edward. He was waiting by the Ferrari.

This I was expecting. My father was a lawyer – a very successful one at that – so he was able to afford all of the finest things. This was also a primary reason for me wanting to get my own car. The attention the Ferrari seemed to draw was astronomical, and while I wasn't introverted, I wasn't exactly what you would call extroverted either.

"It's good to see you, Edy," My father said with a large grin, embracing me in a loving hug. "You haven't changed much. How's Elizabeth?"

"Mom's good. It's really great to see you, too, dad."

My father took one of the two large suitcases I had. Luckily, Chicago wasn't drastically different from Forks, so most of my clothing was weather appropriate. It took a bit of moving around, but it all fit into the tiny trunk of the car nicely.

"So I uh… found you a car," he announced after we buckled ourselves in. I glanced over to him, not too surprised.

"What kind of car?" I lifted a brow in curiosity.

"Well, it's a truck actually, a Chevy."

I cringed slightly. I'd never been good at driving trucks. "Oh… where did you find it?"

"You remember Bonnie Black down at La Push?" La Push is the tiny Native reservation by the coast.

"Mmm, no."

"She and her husband used to go fishing with us during the summer," he tried rejogging my memory.

Ah, fishing. No wonder why I didn't remember. Definitely not one of the most enjoyable experiences during my visits to Forks.

"She's in a wheelchair now," he continued, "so she can't drive anymore, and she offered to sell me her truck cheap."

"What year is it?"

I immediately noticed the slight change in his expression. The one question he didn't want me to ask.

"Well, Bonnie's had a lot of work done on the engine — it's only a few years old, really."

I raised a brow once more, wondering if he really thought I would give up so easily. "When did she buy it?"

"She bought it in 1984, I think."

"New?"

"Well, no... I think it was new in the early seventies — or late sixties at the earliest," he admitted sheepishly.

"Oh Dad… you know I know next to nothing about cars. If it ever had problems or broke down, I wouldn't be able to fix it. And, I definitely wouldn't have money for a mechanic."

"Really, Edythe, the thing runs great. They don't build them like that anymore. Besides, if you ever did run into problems… you know I have more than enough to help you out."

My lips pursed. One thing I didn't like was taking money, so if anything did happen, it was more than likely that I would be walking to school for the rest of my days rather than asking my dad for cash to fix it.

"Just exactly how cheap is cheap?" It would be the deal-breaker after all.

"Well, honey, I kind of already bought it for you. As a homecoming gift." My father peeked over at me with a hopeful look.

He… already bought it?

"Dad… you didn't have to do that you know. I was going to buy myself a car anyways-"

"Edy, really, it's more than alright. I want you to be happy here, so I'm gonna try my darned best to make that happen." He spoke, voice dropping slightly as he finished. I saw his face peak over at me once more – this time with a smile.

I was taken back by this.

My mother and I had never been the closest despite living together for years, so I wasn't used to having someone be so expressive about caring for me. I couldn't help but feel slightly choked up as I quickly glanced out the window, not letting him see the slight tears that built up in my eyes.

"Thanks, dad. I really appreciate it." My voice faltered slightly."

"W-well, now, you're welcome," he mumbled, embarrassed by my honest thanks.

During the rest of the ride, there was casual chitchat, exchanging remarks on the weather and what living with him would be like.

We soon passed by a sign saying 'Welcome to Forks', and I knew that my journey had begun. Glancing out the window, I admired the landscape, as it was all different shades of green. Vastly different from Chicago, and I didn't know if that was a bad thing or not.

We soon made it to my father's. He still lived in the two-story house that he had bought with my mother when they were young. And there, parked in the driveway in front of the house, was my new – well, new to me – truck. It had large square-shaped fenders, and was faded green. I felt myself chuckle under my breath from the irony. It was big – bigger than anything I had ever drove anyway, but to my surprise, I was absolutely captivated by it.

"Holy moly, dad. It looks really great, Thanks!" At least now I wasn't as nervous for my first day of school. There wasn't going to be any walking two miles to get to school nor hitching a ride in the Ferrari that looked more luxurious than anything else in town.

I saw the edge of my father's eyes crinkle as he gave me a modest smile. "Well, I'm glad you like it."

Between myself and my father, it only took one trip to carry all of my stuff in the house and upstairs. He showed me to the bedroom which faced over the front yard; it was the room I was meant to grow up in as a baby. Shame it didn't last. The room was spacious, with a window facing out the front of the house and one facing the side. Brand new red curtains hung from them, which was identical to the color of the blanket that was on the bed.

"Sales lady picked out the sheets and stuff. Y-you like red… right?"

"Red's cool." I nodded, giving him a dimpled smile.

There was a beat of silence.

"Well, I'll uh… just leave you to it." He said before silently scuffing his way out the door.

My father wasn't good at holding casual chitchat, that was for sure. But in a way, I was glad, as it left me to mindlessly roam around my room, taking everything in. A raggedy armchair sat in the corner – why it was there and who it had belong to, I hadn't any idea. It suited the room though. There was a desk which held a fairly new computer, along with a phone line stapled along the floor to the nearest jack. The thought of how much it had costed made me shutter slightly.

I gazed out the window, looking every which way to see if I could spot anything through the thick fog. No luck. I began unpacking my things one by one, carelessly shoving things into drawers. I wasn't exactly the most organized person, but that didn't mean I was a slob. I was messy, but in a clean kind of way. I strolled out into the hallway towards the bathroom – the one I would use all to myself. My father's room was downstairs, and he had his own bathroom attached, so that was a plus.

Forks High School had a diminutive total of just three-hundred and fifty-seven (now fifty-eight) students. It was a bizarre concept for me, as my junior class alone had over a thousand students. What was worse was that here, all of the kids had grown up together.

I would be an outsider.

But who knows, maybe the people I would meet tomorrow would welcome me with open arms and a warm smile. I could only hope.

I glanced up into the bathroom mirror. My mother had always told me we looked so much alike. I didn't really see it, though I didn't find that I looked much like my father either. Kind of like a mix between the two, physically and personality-wise. His bronze hair, her green eyes, his mannerisms, and her sense of humor. I never really considered myself to be beautiful, but nonetheless I was still happy with how I looked. My skin was slightly pale, but it didn't make me stand out in Chicago, and it certainly wouldn't here. I wouldn't doubt if half the town had some form of vitamin D deficiency.

I didn't sleep too great that night. I wasn't unfamiliar with the sound of the rain that beat off the roof, though it was distracting - as were my wandering thoughts, thinking of every possible way the next day could go wrong. It was during the early hours of the morning that I finally drifted off to sleep.

The fog somehow had gotten thicker in the morning, and I couldn't help but sigh as I stared out the window, knowing that it definitely wasn't going to help me navigate to the school in which I had never been to.

The lack of sleep was clearly written on my face, as the dark lines under my eyes ratted me out to the world. I contemplated putting makeup on over it, but decided against in the end, figuring it was just too much work. I tried to skip down the stairs and into the kitchen with a smile on my face which proved difficult. The anxiety at the pit of my stomach seemed to not want to disperse.

Breakfast with my father wasn't eventful. He surprised me by making pancakes – something that did brighten my dampened day ever so slightly. After explaining my worries on getting lost in town, he drew me a makeshift map on how to get to the school, before wishing me luck. He left first, off to his law firm. After he left, I found my self roaming around the spacious home, studying every detail. It was all fairly tidy, but to be fair most of it did also look unused. The scattered pictures that were hung around the house either consisted of my father and his friends, or me. It was sad. Besides myself, he didn't really have any family. Both of his parents had died long before I was even born, and as far as I could tell, he didn't keep up with any relatives either. The guilt that I felt while staring at a small framed photo of him and myself was crushing. While I didn't know if he even felt lonely or not, I still should have insisted on visiting him more often then I had.

But that was all in the past. I was here now, and that's what mattered most.

I didn't want to be too early to school, but my mind was drawing a blank on what I could possibly do while I waited. I went over to the rack to pull on my rain coat, and then slid on my water-proof boots.

The rain grew immensely louder when I stepped out the front door. I actually couldn't recall the last time I saw it pour down so hard. I would need to get used to it, as this was the everyday weather here. I got the key from under the mat to lock up before making my way down the steps to my truck. I half-sprinted to the door, ripping open the handle and jumping into shelter.

The inside of the truck felt as damp as it had been outside. Hints of tobacco and peppermint met my nose, though it was fairly clean. Edward or Bonnie must have cleaned up. I slid the key into the ignition, and shockingly, the engine started quickly, but idled at top volume with a heavy rumble. The antique radio worked, which was a major bonus in my books. I found myself twisting the dials, searching for that familiar channel that played all classical songs.

It would be accurate to say I was most certainly a Debussy enthusiast, so when I heard Clair de Lune start playing, I felt my tense self relax somewhat, thankful for at least one thing that felt familiar from this very unfamiliar day.

I found the school with surprisingly little difficulty. It was just off the highway – like most things were. It wasn't obvious it was a school; the only indication was the sign which declared it was Forks High School. There were multiple maroon-bricked buildings, with many trees and shrubs surrounding the area. There was no feeling of institution, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

I parked in front of the first building, which had a sign over the door that read FRONT OFFICE. No one else had been parked there, so I was worried that for some reason it was off limits. I assumed it would be alright if I was just getting directions. A smart play on my part, so I didn't go wandering around in the pouring rain like a dolt.

I scuttled out into the rain and towards the door as quickly as I could manage. The bell made a chime as I opened it. The inside was brightly lit, which was a nice change from the gloomily dark outside. I couldn't help but stifle a laugh, as the whole room was filled with all kinds of potted plants, as if there wasn't enough greenery outside. The room was split down the middle by a large counter, cluttered by papers and supplies. Three desks sat behind it; one containing a balding man with glasses. I remained behind the counter, shifting back and forth on the heels of my feet while waiting for the man to notice me, but he was too engrossed in whatever thing he was doing, so I ended up having to clear my throat.

The man looked in my direction, eyeing me over with a surprised face. "Can I help you?"

"I'm Edythe Masen," I informed him. It took a moment before the recognition to hit, and he was quickly scuffling to his feet and to the counter.

"Of course," he said as he began to dig around through the papers on his desk, but kept peeking back up at me every few seconds. That made me feel rather uncomfortable. "I have your schedule right here, and a map of the school." He brought several sheets to the counter, fanning them out to show. I couldn't help but notice the top of each paper was labeled with my name, which had been incorrectly spelled 'Edith'.

He went through my classes with me, rather slowly might I say. I didn't want to acknowledge it, but it seemed that he wanted to keep me here longer for some ungodly reason. He highlighted the best routes to get to each of my classes on every map, then gave me a slip that I would need to get each of my teachers to sign, which I was to bring back at the end of the day. He smiled at me a bit too friendly as he wished like my father that I would enjoy it here in Forks.

I jogged back out to the truck, to which I noticed the other students had already begun to arrive, so I quickly revved the engine to life and made my way back around the school, following what seemed to be the last bit of traffic.

Thanks to that balding man, I was going to be late on my first day. Perfect.

It was nice to see that most of the students' vehicles were old much like my own, so besides the blaring engine, I didn't stand out. The newest looking thing was what I guess to be a black Mercedes, which probably costed more than all of the vehicles in the lot combined. I shut off the truck instantly after parking in one of the few remaining spaces, so as I didn't draw any attention. I gathered up my things and tossed it all into my bag. Opening the door with the map in hand and the bag slung around my shoulder, I closed it again then attempted to reach back to pull my hood up. As soon as I let it go, a gust blew it right back down. I sighed at this, not bothering to try again.

I made my way across the lot and hopped up onto the sidewalk, following behind a few figures. With the map in front of my face the whole time, I soon found myself walking into the building that I was closest to, building five. My first class was Calculus with a Ms. Varner. Not exactly the best subject to start my first day with, so I prayed that the teacher would cut me at least the tiniest bit of slack.

Embarrassingly enough, I was the last student to arrive. The class room was quite small, especially compared to the ones in my previous school. I hurriedly walked through the rows of desks filled with students as I made my way to the front of the class. I passed the slip to the teacher, a narrow woman with thinning hair. She gawked at me after seeing my name, which wasn't very encouraging. I felt multiple eyes boring into my back as I impatiently waited for Ms. Varner to sign the slip. Much to my displeasure, she made me introduce myself to the class before sending me to sit at an empty desk in the back corner of the room, next to a short girl with bushy black hair. I figured that in the back, it would be difficult for my new classmates to stare at me, but somehow they managed.

I soon found out that the things they were learning in Calculus now were things I had already learned months ago, so that was relieving, yet dull. Mostly dull. At the end of the class, the bushy haired girl who sat by me turned in her seat.

"…Hi." Her shy voice spoke, which had caught my attention as I was putting my things away.

"Hello." I greeted warmly with a smile. Everyone within a ten foot radius turned to us.

"I'm Becca."

"I'm Edythe."

She almost seemed mesmerized. "Would you like help getting to you're next class?"

"That would be very nice. Thank you." I graciously accepted, which seemed to put a smile on her face. People were still staring at us, now with awe-struck faces.

 _Was a new kid really this captivating?_ I thought to myself. I guess nothing really did happen in this small town, so I could understand it.

"I think I have Government next with Jefferson. Building Six."

I grabbed my coat off the back of the seat, before following Becca out the door, but not before noticing her getting her coat that was hung on a rack along with many others. _I ought to do that next time._

"So, you finding Forks much different than Chicago?" she asked me as we headed out into the rain. I was taken back for a moment, wondering how she knew I was from Chicago.

 _Oh right, small town._

"It's not too bad. Definitely a lot more rain." I laughed, which she joined in on.

I caught a glance behind us, as people seemed to be walking quite closely, obviously trying to eavesdrop.

The walk was short, as building six was right next to five. I felt slight disappointment as Becca waved goodbye to head to her next class. I could only hope that others would be as nice and welcoming as her.

The morning went by in about the same fashion. I didn't have to introduce myself to the class in neither of my next two classes which was a bonus. By the end of English, I began recognising a few of the faces. More people did come up to introduce themselves to me – some braver than others – and asked various questions about how I was liking Forks. I wasn't treated like an outsider, and that in itself felt like a miracle.

I soon made route to the Gymnasium, which had been my next class. I was getting excited, as lunch would soon arrive, meaning I survived about half of the school day so far without a hitch. The Gym teacher, Coach Clapp, said I could sit out for the day if I wanted to, since she didn't have a uniform ready for me yet. Not wanting to get my clothes all stunk up for the afternoon classes, I accepted her offer.

I walked to lunch behind a boy who's head was shaved so close you could see his scalp. The thing that caught my attention was how he walked. It was so graceful, almost like a ballet dancer. He practically burst through the cafeteria doors, and while I couldn't see his face, I could only assume it was with confidence.

I found myself walking over to a lineup. I wasn't too hungry, but I knew if I didn't eat then, I wouldn't be eating for another four hours. I picked out an apple and a bottle of water – something basic, as the pizza there looked greasy enough to make me sick. I found myself eyeing around the cafeteria, looking for an empty table to sit, when I saw Becca waving at me with a smile. She patted the open seat next to her, where she sat with a group of people.

As I sat down next to her, she began introducing me to her friends. As she listed them out, I tried my hardest to remember each of the names, but I forgot almost immediately.

It was there, listening to seven curious strangers talk when I first spotted them.

At first, I didn't really know what I was looking at. There were five students, sitting in the farthest end of the cafeteria, away from everyone else. They didn't talk nor eat, though they each did have a tray of untouched food placed in front of them. Everyone of them, staring in different directions all over the room, not making a single movement. Like statues.

The first thing that struck me was how insanely beautiful each of them were. They all so similarly shared that beauty, yet at the same time, they looked nothing alike. There were three boys; the first was one that I quickly recognized as the boy who I had walked behind on my way here, with a chiselled yet smooth face and a shaved head which was pitch black. Another was taller, bulkier, and had golden hair that was tied up into a bun. The kind of guy you saw at the gym who had first dibs on any equipment he wanted. The last boy was leaner (but not as lean as the first), and had a more boyish quality to him compared to the other two. His hair was a rich brown which was slightly messy, _but a good messy_.

The two girls were almost opposites. One was tall. That I could easily tell. It looked as though her legs went on forever. She had dark hair draped down over her shoulders. Another thing, she looked just as familiar to the weight room as the golden haired boy. The other girl had wavy blonde hair, and was shorter and smaller than the rest, but that didn't stop her from looking seriously intimidating. Her face looked ferocious in a way, but still controlled.

All so vastly different, yet they all shared that beauty that was inhuman, and each of their eyes glowed the color of golden honey. They were all chalky pale too.

Before I realised it was happening, one of the boys – the one with the shaved head – glanced over towards me, his eyes narrowing just a fraction, before quickly shifting away before I even had the chance to tare my gaze from them and glance down at the table.

"W-Who are they?" I asked Becca, uneasily. She looked up to see who I meant, though I could already tell she knew who I was asking about.

"That's Archie and Eleanor Cullen, Royal and Jessamine Hale, and Beaufort Swan. They all live with Dr. Cullen and her husband." She said loud enough for the table to hear, though they were all to busy talking to each other that they didn't overhear.

I glanced back over to them. The brown haired boy was now the only one moving, as he seemed to almost play with a loaf of bread in his hands. That's when I noticed that the shaved head boy seemed to be talking; his lips moving very quickly.

How strange. They all seemed to have unpopular names. Like the ones that grandparents had. Like mine.

"They are… very nice-looking." I struggled with the conspicuous understatement.

"Yes!" Becca agreed. "They're all together though — Eleanor and Royal, and Jessamine and Archie, I mean."

"Which are the Cullens?" I asked her. "They don't really look related-"

"Oh, they aren't. They're all foster children. Dr. Cullen is really young – early thirty's or late twenties."

"Oh… They look a little old to be foster children."

"They are now, Jessamine and Royal are both eighteen, but they've been with Mr. Cullen since they were eight. He's their uncle or something like that."

"That's very nice of them – to take care of all those kids at such a young age that is."

"Yeah, it is." Becca agreed.

During our conversation, I found myself sneaking glances over at the pretty people, questioning if I was going to see them do anything at all – almost like someone looking through the glass at sleeping zoo animals. They still weren't eating.

"Did they always live in Forks?" I turned to ask her.

"No, they actually just moved here two years ago down from somewhere in Alaska."

Ah, so they were outsiders much like myself. But unlike them, I wasn't being treated like an outsider. I couldn't help but feel pity for them.

As I continued to examine them, the youngest-looking boy with the brown hair met my gaze; his eyes so wide and innocent looking. I quickly looked away, but after a moment, I glanced back, which I caught him still staring at me.

"Which one is the boy with the brown hair?" I asked Becca, looking down at the table once again.

"That's Beaufort. He's really shy, I think. If I recall, I've never actually heard him speak a single word."

After a few minutes, the five of them all abruptly rose all at once, then walked out of the cafeteria together. They all had that similar graceful loop that the shaved-headed boy seemed to have, even the brawny one.

I sat at the table with Becca and her friends longer than I would have if I'd been sitting alone. I didn't want to be late to class, so I excused myself, hearing everyone shout their goodbyes, and I gave a smile at them before fleeing to my next class.

I reached into my bag to retrieve my schedule. I had Biology with Mrs. Banner next. Building two. I got the occasional stare as I walked past people, and felt a little too relieved when I finally reached my location. I hung my coat on one of the hanger's hooks before glancing around. Most of the tables seemed to be already filled up. People were sitting with partners. I quickly spotted the brown haired boy - Beaufort. He was reading a biology book that was laid out in front of him.

I made my way through the isles, slip in hand, ready to introduce myself to the teacher. But as I passed by the brown haired boy, he went ridged in his seat, and his head whipped up, exposing wild-looking eyes. I flinched at this, giving him a face in which I could only assume was shocked mixed with a little bit of confusion. I whipped back around before stiffly staggering forward to pass the slip to the teacher.

Mrs. Banner signed it and passed me a book, no questions asked. She was already becoming my favorite. That quickly changed as she sent me to sit in the seat next to the brown haired boy.

I paced over toward my new table partner with slow and easy steps. His eyes were back down onto his book, though his honey golden eyes were widened with what looked to be fear. As I placed my book onto the table, his eyes met mine once more, and they looked even more fearful than before. His hand shot up to pinch his nose as he rapidly looked away from me.

 _What was with this reaction?_

As I took my seat, I saw his posture change, as he shifted himself on the very edge of his seat, far away from me; the death grip on his nose only grew tighter as his eyes clenched shut. I could merely only gape at this. _What was wrong with this boy… Why was he acting like he smelt something horrid?_

I turned my head ever so slightly to take a whiff of my hair. It smelled like shampoo, how could that be offensive? My eyes flicked back to him. He now no longer had a hand pinching his nose, but instead it was now clenched into a fist and was placed on is thigh. His eyes were open once again, and they seemed just as scared as before.

Mrs. Banner did a lecture on cellular anatomy, something I'd already studied. I took notes anyway in hopes of distracting myself from the odd boy sitting next to me. As time passed, I couldn't help but feel my temper get the best of me.

Who did this boy think he was? To act so… harshly mean towards me for absolutely no reason. This was definitely not because of shyness, that was for sure. But the more I focused on my notes, the more I also began focusing on the boy.

It was so strange. Usually I could read people like a book, but I just couldn't understand what was going on as I sat at that table, constantly peaking over at the brown-haired boy who's fist never released from an unclenched state.

I caught him glancing over at me, which he immediately looked away with what appeared to be a disgusted face.

 _He was acting preposterous._

At that point, my temper was flying off the charts, and it was taking everything within me to not call the boy out on his rude behaviour. The class was dragging on, and my eyes were glued to the clock, watching it go slowly round and round. When it was the last minute of class, I planned ahead, shoving all my books into my bag before slinging it over my shoulder. Just as the bell rang, I swiftly rose from my seat, stalking out of the classroom, grabbing my coat along the way, not daring to look back at him.

Like Biology, Spanish didn't seem to go by fast enough. I couldn't concentrate on the teacher as my mind kept wandering back to what had happened in my last class. It was utterly absurd to think that such a vile person could exist. The fact that he seemed to already have made a judgement on me despite us conversing not even once had me mindlessly writing in my notebook with a pencil much harder than needed.

I should have expected this of course. My first day was going far too well, so something had to turn bad. How typical. My very first day, and some random boy already hates my existance.

 _Or does he?_

Was I just completely overeating. Had I completely misread all of the actions and expressions he had shown me? That seemed unlikely, but at the same time, maybe I was becoming overconfident in my skills.

That couldn't be it though. Those faces he made at me were anything but friendly, but at the same time, maybe he was just different. Maybe he was so shy that all those reactions were just him merely freaking out that some stranger had been sitting next to him. I couldn't think of any other possible reason, so I settled for that.

The bell rang, and I made my way out into the drizzling rain towards the front office.

When I opened the door, I sighed with relief, feeling the warmth hit my face. Though, as I glanced at the counter, my mood quickly went sour once again.

Beaufort was standing there, speaking in a soft whisper to the receptionist. I inched my way closer, and I pretty quickly picked up the gist of the conversation. He was trying to switch out of biology for another time – any other time.

 _Was it really crazy to believe that this was about me?_

The door behind me opened; the wind from the outside blowing my hair in front of me as a student walked in, placed a piece of paper on the desk, and left once again. But Beaufort Swan's face told another story. He stiffly glanced behind, his bright eyes now daggering into mine.

 _This most definitely was about me._

"Never mind," he said. "I can see that it's impossible. Thank you anyways for your help."

And just like that, he turned on the balls of his feet, and marched stiffy out the door. I could only shake my head in disbelief as I strutted to the counter, passing the slip over to the man.

"How was your first day, dear?"

"Fine." I gritted through my teeth. _Way to be convincing._

After letting me go, I then strutted back out the door and to my truck, not caring to pull my hood up. I slammed the door a little too harshly after I got in. I then let out a long lasting groan as my head fell onto the wheel.

"Nice start to the school year, Edythe." I scolded myself. I twisted the key in the ignition, hearing it loudly roar to life. My hand had a tight grip on the clutch as I ripped it down, reversing out of the parking space. I shifted back into drive before speeding my way back to my father's house, trying my hardest not to think of anything.

* * *

AN: So more or less a rewrite of Life and Death just for fun. I always wondered how Edythe would react in the situations Beau was always put in and vice versa. I do intend to keep Edythe strong and independent, just like how she was when she was a vampire! So that'll be pretty fun to write.


	3. Open Book

**Open Book**

* * *

The next day was far better… I think.

It was better because it wasn't pouring rain, so I didn't have to full on sprint between buildings like a dingus to get to class. It was better because I sat with Becca and her friends again at lunch, which I somehow managed to remember everyone's names relatively easily. I even got a good rest the night before, so I didn't have dark circles looming under my eyes.

In gym, we got partnered up for badminton, so while all the other students picked their friends, I didn't know anyone in the class, so I was forced to partner up with the only student remaining; Archie Cullen. Luckily though, he didn't talk to me. In fact, he didn't even acknowledge that I existed besides the occasional looks he gave me when Coach Clapp asked him to share the court, as he was playing like a one-man team against another group. It was hard to even pay attention to what was going on, as my eyes somehow always managed to find their way back to the shaved-headed boy who danced around the court gracefully as he single handily beat every team we went against. I wondered if he knew about what happened the day before between me and his sibling.

One thing though, the day was also strange, because Beaufort Swan wasn't in school at all.

The whole morning, I was anxious for lunch, for if the boy kept giving me those bizarre looks, I would walk up to him and demand to know what his problem was. A gutsy move on my part. In the middle of my classes, I planned out what I was going to say to him as, so I didn't make myself seem foolish.

But, when I walked into the cafeteria, he was no where in sight. His four siblings were there, sitting at the table that they had been yesterday, and Beaufort's seat was empty.

A boy named Jeremy called both me and Becca over to the table where he'd sat with the rest of Becca's friends. I couldn't help but notice the little wave Becca gave one of the boys when we sat down. He was tall, with matte black hair and glasses. If I wasn't mistaken, his name was Allan Weber.

I waited, taking quick glances around the cafeteria, waiting for _him_ to come; waiting for my time to strike. I was like a lion, quietly searching, waiting for the pray to jump out so I could attack.

But he didn't come. As time passed, I grew more anxious, coming up with different scenarios on why he wasn't in that lunch room; all of them boiling down to the same answer.

Me.

I walked to Biology with a girl named McKayla. She was quiet the whole walk there, which seemed wildly out of character, as if I remembered correctly, she was a complete chatterbox during lunch. When I walked in through the doorway, my breath hitched. He wasn't there either. I sighed, walking to my seat casually.

It felt a bit relieving that I had the desk to myself, as Beaufort wouldn't be able to distract me with those looks that made me want to flick my biology book at his face. I would be able to pay attention to the teacher without worry. That didn't happen though, as the whole class, my mind still somehow managed to think back to the boy. The nagging feeling that I was the reason he wasn't in school kept eating away at me. I wanted to try and think of some possible explanation as to why he wasn't here, but the answer was clear.

When the day finally came to an end, I packed up my Spanish book and quickly hurried out of the classroom. When I got outside, it was raining again (big surprise), and I quickly jogged to my truck.

One thing I found out last night; my father barely had any groceries in the house. He said, and I quote, 'Why bother cooking something when I could just go out to eat', and while that was a viable option for him, it certainly wasn't for me. As I was about to back out of the lot, I noticed that the two Cullen's and Hale twins were walking behind my truck, to which they came by the side to enter the shiny black Mercedes I was parked by.

I was kind of surprised for a second, before I noticed the clothing they wore; all designer stuff, which probably costed a fortune.

Now I definitely couldn't understand why they were outsiders. It must've be their choice, as there's no way a group that was as pretty and as rich as them couldn't make friends.

The loud roar of my truck's engine must have caught their attention, as one of the Hales – the golden-haired boy – looked in my direction. The face he wore was as cold as ice.

I was taken back by this. Maybe it wasn't just Beaufort that was impolite. After all, my new gym partner barely noticed my existence, and I certainly knew that I didn't deserve that cold stare goldilocks had given me. Maybe their whole family was just rude, and that's why they were outsiders.

The Thriftway wasn't too far from the school luckily, just a few streets south. It felt nostalgic to be in one. I did most of the grocery shopping back in Chicago as well, since my mother would usually work until the late hours of the evening. It felt natural, and I was easily able to fall into the simple routine that I had done for years. I couldn't even hear the rain outside hitting off the rooftop, so just for a little moment, it felt like I was home once again. Of course, the illusion was shattered when I stepped back out into the poring rain; plastic bags in hand.

As much as I loved sunshine, I didn't mind the rain either. There was no better feeling then cracking open the window on a rainy day, pulling up a chair, then having a book in one hand, and a hot beverage in the other. The thought of doing such a thing made me feel the tiniest bit of excitement, as I then decided that's exactly what I would do.

I was a simple person. It didn't take much to make me happy.

When I got home, I unloaded the groceries in the cupboards, stuffing anything anywhere there was space – which wasn't too hard, as most of them were empty. I then wrapped two potatoes in tinfoil and put them in the oven to bake, then covered two steaks in marinade and stuck them into the bare fridge.

After finishing up, I poured some water into the kettle, before turning on the stove. I jogged upstairs and into my room, tossing my bag onto the armchair before I began to rummage through drawers to find a book. After a bit of searching, I settled on Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea. My mother had given it to me two Christmases ago, and I never had the time to read it till then.

I trotted back down to the kitchen, where began to take out a large mug and a tea bag, before taking the kettle off the stove and pouring myself a steamy cup. After adding some milk and sugar, I carefully walked back up to my room. I placed the mug down on my desk, then walked over to the corner where my bag sat on the raggedy arm chair. I tossed it off, before slowly but surely pushing the chair over to the window, to where I then opened it. I placed the mug on the windowsill, then flopped down onto the chair, pulling my legs up towards my chest as I opened the book.

I remained there for a solid hour, before hearing the front door open.

"Edy," I heard my father call out. "You home?"

"Yeah, dad!" I called back, putting a bookmark in-between the pages before heading back down stairs to meet my father in the kitchen.

"How was school today?" He casually asked, sitting down at the table with a paper in hand.

"Pretty good!" It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't _exactly_ the truth either.

I took the steaks out of the fridge, before turning the stove on once more and placing down a frying pan.

"Hnn, what're you cookin'?"

"Steak and potatoes – for the two of us." I added.

"Oh," He seemed surprised. "Well, thanks, darling."

I flashed him a smile.

It was silent while we ate, but not uncomfortably so. We both weren't the most talkative people, so it was relaxing. I had only arrived two days ago, yet I already found myself enjoying living with my father.

"So," he began, stabbing another piece of steak with his fork. "Make any friends at school?"

"Umm, a few, I guess." I mumbled. He seemed to be waiting for me to continue. "There's Becca and Allan, a-and I've also met a few of their friends, like McKayla-"

"Newton?" He cut me off. "Nice girl – nice family. Her father owns the sporting goods store just outside of town. Makes a real good living off all the backpackers who come through here."

"Do, you know the Cullen family?" I practically blurted out, which I immediately regretted.

"Dr. Cullen's family? Oh sure, Dr. Cullen is a great woman."

"Ah, okay…" I went silent, which seemed to make him grow curious.

"Why do you ask?"

How was I supposed to say that in my two days, I've made half of the Cullen family hate me? How was I supposed to explain why they hated me, because I certainly didn't know. I decided to go the safe route.

"The kids… They don't seem to fit in very well at school."

My father's face grew stern, which had surprised me. "The people in this town…" He mumbled. "Dr. Cullen is a brilliant surgeon, who could probably work anywhere else and make ten-times the salary she gets here. We're very lucky to have her. Lucky that her husband wanted to live in a small town. She's an asset to this community. And their kids are the politest and well-behaved teenagers I've seen – and that's more than I can say for the children of some other folks who've lived in this town for generations."

It was the longest time I've ever heard my father speak.

"W-well they seem nice enough to me." I lied. "They're all really attractive."

"You should see the doctor." He grinned. "It's lucky she's happily married; a lot of the other hospital workers have a hard time concentrating on their work when she's around."

We lapsed back to silence as we began to finish eating. As we both cleared the table, I was about to start on the dishes when my father stopped me, saying that since I did all the cooking, he should do the cleaning. I was going to protest, but I remembered that I had homework to do anyways, so I graciously accepted and excused myself, going back up stairs to work.

That night I fell asleep quickly, exhausted from the busy day.

The rest of that week wasn't too eventful. I kept up a tradition of returning home to read more of my book, then cooking supper, then working on homework. By Friday I was acquittances with everyone at the lunch table, and was able to recognize, if not name, all the students at school. In gym, Archie Cullen still refused to speak with me, but he did acknowledge my existence much more often. He even let me have turns in badminton without the coach asking him.

Beaufort didn't come back to school.

Every day I found myself watching the rest of the Cullen's as they entered the cafeteria without him. Things were getting strange.

The people at my lunch table chatted mindlessly about some upcoming trip to La Push beach that McKayla was planning. Becca had invited me, though when she did, I saw the look that McKayla had given her, so I declined, thanking her anyway but coming up with some excuse as to why I couldn't. For whatever reason, McKayla didn't like me. I didn't question it though, as I would probably just end up just as confused and frustrated as I did with the Cullen's.

By Friday, it didn't even phase me that Beaufort wasn't in school. For all I knew, he had dropped out. I didn't let it bug me despite almost being completely sure that _I_ was the reason he wasn't there, preposterous as it seemed.

The weekend passed by without incident. My father worked from his home office the whole weekend, so I basically had the entire house to myself. My mother had called me on Saturday to see how I was doing. I was completely honest with her, telling her I was doing good. She seemed happier, though I could only judge by the sound of her voice. I could tell she was enjoying being on the road. I had finished Twenty-Thousand Leagues, and on Sunday ended up going to the library. I didn't get a card though, as the selection there was lackluster. I would have to make plans to head to Olympia or possibly Seattle to find a good bookstore.

People happily greeted me in the parking lot Monday morning, which really put a boost in my mood. I of course greeted back, luckily remembering most, if not everyone's name. It was colder than usual that morning, but it didn't rain. In calculus, Becca took her seat by me, chatting casually.

Overall, it was a great day. I was feeling very comfortable in this new environment already.

When we walked out of class, the first thing I noticed was the white flakes falling from the sky. People shouting excitedly to each other met my ears.

"Oh wow, it's snowing." Becca said in awe. She then turned to me. "Does it snow much in Chicago?"

"Yes, but not often though." I smiled.

"Well, you better get use to it, cause it's going to happen a lot here." She grinned back.

Soon, the snowballs began flying, and I quickly said my goodbyes to Becca, not wanting to get caught in the crossfire.

Throughout the morning, there was excited chatter about the snow. In government, McKayla was planning a snowball fight after school. She seemed to be in such a good mood that she even personally invited me to join, though I had a feeling that she only did this so she could try and lob a snowball at my face. I pleasantly declined with a smile, which seemed to irritate her slightly. I forcibly stopped the chuckle that tried to erupt within me.

Gym class was the same. Archie Cullen's hair was slightly wet, which I could only assume was from him and his siblings joining in on the fight. He was a lot friendlier today. He even greeted me with a polite 'Hello' when I walked over next to him with my racket, which had caught me off guard.

I jogged from the gym to the cafeteria, successfully dodging all the snowballs that were flung in my direction – McKayla no doubt. I felt like treating myself that day, as I bought one of those greasy pizzas that looked disgusting yet amazing at the same time. There weren't many people at the lunch table when I got there, as most of them were outside, still playing in the snow. Allen Weber was there, and I greeted him with a warm smile.

When I heard laugher, my head turned in the direction of the table I had been staring at all last week, and I froze.

There were five people at the table.

The first half of lunch, I cautiously drank from my bottle of water, and took tiny bites of the pizza in front of me. I don't know whether it was the grease, or the fact that _he_ had returned, but my stomach felt slightly upset.

I let myself take just one peak over at the Cullen's table. If he was giving me that weird look again, I would walk over there and confront him like I was going to do last week.

I glanced over cautiously, noticing that no set of eyes were looking in my direction, so I began to fully stare at them.

They were all laughing, even Beaufort. Their hair was all entirely saturated from the melting snow. Archie and Royal had to lean away when the tall girl, Eleanor, started shaking her dripping hair in their direction. They were enjoying the snow day just as much as everyone else. It made them look a bit more normal, though not completely, as they looked like a scene from a movie compared to the rest of the student body.

"Edythe, what are you looking at?" I heard Becca ask me over my shoulder.

At that very moment, his eyes flashed over to meet mine.

I glanced away, looking over to Becca.

"Nothing." I muttered.

At that split moment, when he looked at me, I saw no fear and no resentment. I almost felt relieved. I then began doubting myself. Had I made the whole thing up? No, that didn't seem possible. The way he looked at me in biology would be clearly etched into my mind for the rest of eternity.

"Beaufort Swan is looking at you." Becca whispered.

My eyes traveled back over to the table, where I confirmed what Becca had said. He was staring, but still not with resentment. It was a look that seemed casual – almost friendly even. It made me furious. I gave the boy a hard glare, which seemed to shock him for a moment, before his gaze was torn away.

I felt myself smile a bit, feeling like I had accomplished something. What that was, I hadn't the clue, but it felt good nonetheless.

"Did something happen between the two of you?" Becca asked me, obviously curious.

"No, but for whatever reason, I don't think he likes me that much."

"Oh, well I don't think you need to take it personally. The Cullen's don't like anyone – well they don't notice anyone enough to like them."

"Well that seems kind of rude."

Becca only shrugged with a faint smile.

For the rest of the lunch hour, I listened in on the conversation at the table. McKayla was still talking about the epic battle she was planning at the end of the day. She tried inviting me once more, but I declined again. I didn't dare look back over at the Cullen's.

After lunch ended, we all got up simultaneously, though as we began to exit the cafeteria, everyone besides myself groaned in unison. It was now raining, washing away all traces of snow. I didn't mind of course, though I did feel bad for the others.

I walked behind a complaining McKayla on the way to biology. I questioned what I was going to do when I got there. Would I simply ignore the boy, or would I confront him, asking what last week was all about?

As I walked into the classroom, my eyes went over to my table. He was sitting there, hand together on top of the desk, eyes on the book in front of him. I hung my coat on the hook before I began walking over. I sat down, and the rattling chair seemed to catch his attention, but he didn't look up from his book. He was sitting on the very edge of his chair.

I surprised myself by what came next.

"Hello." I said in a quite yet slightly cheerful voice. The boy's eyes immediately glanced up at me, almost looking shocked. I couldn't help but stare as his face looked inhumanly perfect, and the wide eyes made him look like an innocent puppy. Something skipped in my chest.

"I'm sorry I didn't have a chance to introduce myself last week. I'm Edythe Masen. You're Beaufort?" I questioned despite already knowing. The name was hard to forget, as it had been on my mind for a week now.

There was a pause. His face became unreadable, and my stomach almost immediately started doing flips, thinking of every scenario on how that moment could go wrong. His lips parted slightly, and he began to speak.

"Beau." Was all he said.

"Beau?" I questioned, feeling unreasonably taken back by how soft his voice was.

"I l-like to go by Beau, not Beaufort."

"Oh, okay. Beau." I corrected myself.

Had I made the whole thing up? He seemed friendly enough today. Shy of course, but that was to be expected.

I was cut out of my trance by Mrs. Banner. I tried to concentrate on what she was saying. She told the class we would be doing a lab today, to where she passed around boxes each filled with a microscope and slides for it. Working as partners, we would have to identify and separate onion root tip cells into the phases of mitosis they represented and label them accordingly. We weren't allowed to use our books, but that didn't bother me. I had already done this lab months back in Chicago, so I would be able to show off.

"Get started," she commanded.

"Ladies first, partner?" I asked the boy with a smile. He stared at me, remaining silent. I still couldn't tell what he was thinking.

"Uh, sure, go ahead." He stuttered out.

I nodded, yanking the heavy scope over towards me, before slipping the first slide in.

"Prophase." I said, almost immediately recognizing it. I was about to pull the side out, but then I stopped myself, turning to the boy with a taunting smile. "Or did you want to check?" I challenged.

He seemed surprised by this. "Uh, no, I'm good."

 _Hmpt, you're no fun,_ I thought to myself.

Switched out the slide quickly, before looking down the eyepiece once again.

Anaphase. Picking up my pencil, I wrote it down. I then looked for the next slide, only to find it on his side of the desk. I held out my hand, looking at him. He seemed confused, before his eyes followed mine down to the slide in front of him.

"Oh." He murmured, picking up the side to pass over to me. I reached out to grab it, but when my fingers suddenly touched his skin, I felt my hand shoot back slightly. He seemed taken back as well. His fingers were ice cold, as if he held them in a snowbank for an hour.

"Sorry." I said, reaching back over to grab it. As I was about to put the slide in, I heard a voice speak my name.

"Ms. Masen?"

I looked up, seeing Mrs. Banner speaking to me.

"Yes, Mrs. Banner?" Her face looked slightly disapproving, and I instantly knew what it was about. I found myself pushing the microscope towards the boy before she could even finish what she was going to say.

"Perhaps you should let Mr. Swan have an opportunity to learn?"

"Of course, Mrs. Banner." I agreed, before glancing over to the boy, sliding the work sheet over towards him as well, giving him the OK.

His hand reached up to hold onto the scope, before he leaned down ever so slightly to peak into the scope.

"Metaphase." He said almost immediately, glancing back up to me. I was shocked, as he identified it faster than I even would have. I found myself doubting his judgement. The boy went to take out the slide, but my hand shot over.

"Mind if I check?" I asked with a smile, ignoring his freezing hand. It felt as if though electric currents ran up my fingers as I did this.

He didn't say anything, and merely pushed the scope back to me. I investigated the scope, only to feel myself curse under my breath.

He was right.

"Metaphase." I agreed, pushing it back over to him. I watched as he picked up a pencil to write it down, and I couldn't help but be memorized by his writing. It was just as good (if not better than) mine.

After a moment of looking around, I saw his glance land over next to me, to which he then held his hand out. I looked over wondering what he was asking for. As I saw the last slide, I understood. Though not understanding the reason as we're able to narrow down the answer, I passed it over to him.

"Well, the last is no mystery, regardless." I said, though I scolded myself, as I sounded like I was on the edge of laughter.

"Oh, right." He said, to which he then let out a laugh that sounded so impossibly magnificent. He then wrote Telophase on the last line on the worksheet.

I glanced around, only to notice we were the first ones done. McKayla and her partner seemed to be having major trouble, and another group had a book open under the desk. This left me with nothing to do besides take glances at the boy, who was once again looking down at his book.

There seemed to be a strange look in his eyes, but I couldn't pin it down no matter how hard I tried.

I felt unreasonably bothered. Usually, I was always so good at reading people, but this boy was just so hard to understand. His face was always showing the same emotion, so I couldn't read him no matter how hard I tried. I couldn't judge him by his moments either, as he sat as still as a statue; staring down at the book as if he knew how much I was bothered. He didn't even look like he was breathing.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mrs. Banner begin to make rounds, and when she walked by us, she gave us a strange look, more than likely thinking why we weren't working. She glanced over our shoulders at the worksheet, before looking surprised.

"So, Edythe…" she began, but I cut her off.

"Beau identified half of the slides," I informed her. She looked over to the boy, who was witnessing the interaction. He merely nodded in agreement. She seemed to accept this without question and turned to walk away. The boy went back to looking at his book.

"It's too bad about the snow, isn't it?" I asked him, trying to get him to engage in more conversation.

"I guess so." He spoke, not looking up.

"You don't like the cold." It was more of a statement than a question, though I couldn't see how that was possible, as judging by his fingers, he seemed to enjoy himself today.

"No, it's not that, it's just…" he trailed off, looking up to meet my gaze.

"You like the sunshine better?"

"Yeah." He smiled faintly.

"Where are you from?" I asked. I was becoming more and more intrigued by this strange boy by the minute.

He seemed taken back by this and was hesitant to answer.

"Phoenix." His voice came out like a whisper. "Phoenix, Arizona."

"Ah, no wonder why you like the sun." I mused. He didn't speak, so I continued. "Forks must be a difficult place for you to live."

He merely shrugged.

"So, Dr. Cullen is your foster parent?" I asked, not wanting the conversation to end.

He seemed hesitant with this question as well. "Yes."

I wondered if he thought I was being nosey. Maybe so, but I didn't care all too much.

"How long have you been with Dr. Cullen?"

He paused, his eyes narrowing at me. "A while."

"Ah…"

"W-what about you?" He muttered out. He really was shy.

"What about me?" I smiled at him.

"Do you like the sun?"

"As much as anyone else, I guess."

"And the snow?"

"A-Okay in my books."

He paused, nodding while taking in my answers. I was expecting him to say more, but he never. I didn't want it to end though.

"Where were you last week?"

His eyes shifted to me, and for a second, I could see a flash of anger, though almost instantly it dissipated.

"…I had to um… visit family."

That was a lie.

"Really?" I questioned, leaning onto my propped-up hand. "But I thought you were a foster kid."

"I-I am, but my mother has relatives that live in Seattle, so I decided I would go visit them for a couple of days."

"Ah, I see. Do you have much family besides your parents and siblings?"

The boy paused for a moment, before turning his full attention to me.

"Why do you care?"

It took a moment for me to realise what he asked.

"That's a very good question." I hummed. Why did I care? Why was I trying to get this strange and mysterious boy to explain his life story to me? I couldn't even understand it myself, though that wasn't surprising, as anything involving this boy I couldn't seem to make sense of. I turned my head back to the boy, taking him in, trying to understand even the simplest things he did. He seemed to notice me, and his eyes narrowed.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly. "Did I… Am I annoying you?"

I felt myself smile at this. In a way yes, but it wasn't his fault. "No, if anything, I'm annoyed with myself."

"Why?"

I cocked my head to the side. "Reading people… it usually comes very easily to me. But I can't—I guess I don't know quite what to make of you. Is that funny?"

His mouth formed into a line. "More… unexpected. My parents always call me their open book. According to them, you can all but read my thoughts printing out across my forehead."

My lips pursed at this, as I stared intently at the boy, though almost immediately I felt myself give up, to which I smiled again. "I suppose I've gotten overconfident."

"Um, sorry?"

I laughed at this. As if he had anything he needed _to be_ apologetic for.

Mrs. Banner called the class to order, but I couldn't seem to give her my full attention. I felt dizzy in a strange way. I full on expected to lose my temper on him somehow, yet all I did was have a pleasant conversation with a boy who I still hadn't the clue hated me or not?

And it was almost like he read my mind. From the corner of my eye, I saw that he was leaning away from me again, his hands gripping the edge of the table with unmistakable tension.

As class was about to end, I quickly packed up all my things, before walking out the door once the bell rang, not once looking back at Beau.

I couldn't concentrate in Spanish class one bit. At this rate, I wouldn't be surprised if I somehow managed to fail the course at the end of the school year.

It was misty when I had gotten outside. Luckily, I had been parked relatively close to the building, so I was in the cab with time to spare. I got the heat running quickly, and for once I didn't mind the ear-deafening roar that the truck produced.

Before I had the chance to pull out, I looked across the lot, spotting Beau about to unlock the door to the black Mercedes, his eyes on me. I pulled the gear shift into drive, but I was too caught up in Beau's stare, for as I drove ahead slightly, I slammed on the brakes, almost hitting a car drove by in front of me. With a heavy sigh, I pushed on the gas once again, pulled out of the lot, but I could swear as I glanced back, Beau had a faint smile on his face.


	4. Phenomenon

**Phenomenon**

* * *

When I awoke the next day, I saw something out of the ordinary.

It was the light. It illuminated my bedroom, and as I realised what it was, I hopped out of bed and over to the window.

There wasn't any fog. Cloudy, sure, but just enough to still allow the sun to make it's grand appearance. But that wasn't all. A fine layer of white covered the ground, and the worst part, all of the rain from yesterday had frozen, and was now sleek ice. Definitely not the best driving conditions, though I couldn't help but be reminded of home.

My father left for work before I had gotten down stairs. The emptiness of the house was a strange feeling, though almost exciting. Living with my father was a lot like living alone. I'd always wondered what that would be like.

I whipped up eggs and toast for breakfast, along with a pot of coffee. I felt exhilarated. I could see the sun today. I finally felt excited to go to school, and it couldn't've felt better. I had no more worries. I felt like I would be able to chat freely with Becca and her friends, and I would be able to focus in all my classes. But the absolute most exciting thing was that I would see Beau again today, and that was very foolish.

Who was to even say he would even notice my existence again, let alone talk to me? If anything, I should be trying everything possible to avoid the mysterious boy, but even the thought of doing so struck some sort of cord in me, and I knew that it wasn't possible.

I didn't exactly know what I wanted out of this. A friend seemed like probable reason, as I didn't even think my mind was capable of comprehending romance.

It was a struggle to get down the driveway. My shoes may have been waterproof, but they definitely didn't have any traction. I practiced a death grip when I got to the door, as my hand firmly clamped around the handle to keep balance.

Driving to school seemed like the very opposite experience. Even though I was going slow, driving on the icy roads felt like a breeze, which really was a good thing, as I found myself quite distracted; my mind consistently failing to not think of Beau.

I couldn't seem to figure him out. There was something about him so… strange, as if no one else was like him. I mean, there _was_ no one else like him. Besides his siblings, there was no one who had his porcelain skin; so flawless and sculpted. There was no one else who could make me think as hard as he could. He was impenetrable, as if he built this wall around him to keep people out. I felt determined to smash that wall somehow.

I arrived to school about the same time most people seemed to be arriving. As I hopped out of my truck, a slight twinkle caught my eye, and as I looked down towards my back tires, I saw the diamond-shaped chains. My father had gotten up who knows how early to put them on for me – something my mother probably would have never done. My throat felt tight as I held back emotion, but all of that seemed to wash away when I heard a strange sound.

It was a ear-aching screech, and it was becoming louder by the second. I looked up, startled. There were several things that came into vision, and nothing moved in slow motion like the movies. The adrenaline in my body seemed to rush through me in waves as I absorbed my surroundings.

Beaufort Swan was several cars down from me, and I was surprised by how easily I could read him, as the look he wore showed blatant horror. His perfect face standing out of a sea of others so clearly. But, the more alarming thing was a large van; it's tires locked and squealing against the breaks, and it barrelling towards me at a deathly speed.

I reacted before I could even begin to think what I was doing, as I whipped my body around, putting one foot on the back-tire next to me, my violently shaking hands gripping onto the side of the rim of the truck's bed as I pushed myself up with all the force possible, hoping that by some chance I would be able to jump in the back, but something deep inside me was telling me it was too late as the screeching became ear deafening.

For a second, my body felt as if though it were floating, before something tight locked around me, and my body felt like it hit the cold ground. There was a big bang, and I rocked slightly, the sound of popping glass sounded immediately after. A slight pain arose towards my head, but my eyes kept shut. A few seconds passed before the screaming began.

I opened my eyes once more, fully expecting to either see the angles singing, or to be pinned in-between the van and my truck like a sandwich, but that wasn't the case. The only thing I saw was pale skin.

"Edythe, are you okay?" An angelic voice asked me.

My eyes slowly looked up, seeing another face that was inches from me. Amber eyes bore into mine with such intensity.

Was I okay? Besides the slight ache in my head, I didn't feel any pain – possibly from how memorized I was by _him_.

"Y-yes." My voice was unnaturally shaky.

That's when the iron bars – or should I say Beau's arms – released their grip around me. I quickly glanced around, realising that I was lying in the bed of my truck – somehow with Beau. I pushed myself up slightly onto one elbow as the frantic voices got closer, but as seconds past, the last twenty seconds came flashing back in waves, and there was only one question I had to ask, for in no possible way did it make any sense.

"How did you get over to me so quickly?" I asked the boy, realising if it wasn't for him, I would probably be dead right now.

His gaze turned solid. "I was standing right next to you, Edythe…"

My eyes narrowed, but not in the confused kind of way. More like the "Okay, that was a straight up lie and we both know it," kind of way.

"No, you were across the lot… you were next to your car, I-"

"Edythe, please." He cut me off, his soft voice filled with desperation. "I was standing next to you and I pulled us up into the truck, okay?"

"Wh-"

"Please."

I was so confused. He seemed to acknowledged that he was lying, and he was for some reason trying to make me say it back to him, as if to try and play along somehow.

"But that's not what happened…" my voice was faint.

"I'm begging you."

I couldn't understand why he was though.

"…Okay." I agreed.

A breath escaped from his lips, before helping me sit up.

The first thing I noticed were the students, as they were all crowded around the truck, many of who looked to be crying their eyes out. Many people called my name, asking me if I was okay. Someone was instructing the both of us not to move, though that didn't faze Beau, as he helped me down from the truck. Two teachers arrived – Ms. Varner and Coach Clapp – and instructed all of the students to give us space.

I stared in horror at my truck. The whole side that the van hit was damaged and dented beyond belief. The windows to both my own and the other vehicle were shattered, and I hadn't even realised before that the back of the truck was basically filled with glass.

Luckily I wasn't cut anywhere.

The ambulances arrived shortly, and they began to roll the stretchers in. The EMTs assisted the person in the van first, who I quickly recognized to be Taylor Crowley. Despite the blood that seemed to run slightly down her head, she seemed to be fine, just a bit dazed. The paramedics then came over to myself and Beau. I quickly refused, stating I was more than fine. I then told them how Beau practically braced the whole impact, to which I then started saying how he probably was the one in worse shape, but he also somehow managed to talk his way out of it. The Paramedics were still weary, and after a short debate, both me and Beau agreed to at least accept a ride to the hospital for a checkup. I kept shooting glances at the boy the whole way there, though he never made eye contact.

Shortly after we arrived, myself and Beau headed inside behind a beat-up Taylor Crowley who was lying in a gurney, though almost immediately, the figure to my side disappeared, and I stopped for a moment, wondering where he could have gone, though one of the EMTs began ushering me.

I was brought to the emergency area. The room was full of beds, all separated by pastel-patterned curtains. A nurse put one of those pressure cuffs on my arm and then a thermometer under my tongue despite telling her over and over I felt more than fine. I could tell my persistence was annoying her. Hospital personal were all moving around the room quickly, and when things seemed to calm down a bit, another wave of people flooded in through the door, rolling a gurney containing Taylor. They put her on the bed next to me, and when I took a good look, I realised just how beat up she was, with bloodstained bandages wrapped tightly around her head. She was anxiously staring at me.

"Edythe, I'm so sorry!"

"Don't worry about me, Taylor, I'm perfectly fine. Are you doing alright?" It felt like a stupid question, because by the looks of it, she really didn't. My assumption was confirmed when a nurse started undoing the soiled bandages, exposing an innumerable amount of shallow slices all over her forehead and left cheek.

She ignored me. "I thought I was going to kill you! I was going too fast, and I hit the ice wrong-" She winced when the nurse began dabbing at her face.

"You missed me – really, I'm more than alright."

"How'd you get out of the way so fast? I saw you tried to make a run for it, but then you just disappeared out of thin air. I thought I had crushed you…"

I went silent for a moment, thinking of a good answer.

"Well, Beau pulled me into the back of my truck."

She was confused. "Who?"

"Beaufort Swan. He was standing right next to me when it happened, and pulled us both to safety.

"Swan? I didn't see him… wow, it was all so fast, I guess. Is he okay?"

"I think so. He was with me when we walked in, but then he disappeared."

A nurse came back with more bandages for Taylor, which she then pulled Taylor's curtain closed for whatever reason, though I felt kind of glad. I wasn't in the mood to talk – only to think about what had happened.

"Edythe!" A voice shouted. I looked over to the opened doors to see my father with a very panicked look.

"Hi, dad. I'm fine really! There's nothing wrong."

He wasn't convinced, and he turned to the closest nurse to get a second opinion. I noticed that his eyes looked slightly puffy, and I couldn't help but feel immense waves of guilt, as if the accident had somehow been my fault. He remained with me for a while then, before excusing himself, saying he had to go and make a call.

Figuring there was nothing else to do, I sat back in the bed and relaxed.

That is until a figure came strolling in through the door, and my mouth fell open. She was young, she was pretty, and she looked better than any movie star I'd ever seen. She was tired-looking though, with dark circles under her eyes. From my father's description, this must be Beau's mother.

"So, Miss Masen," Dr. Cullen said in a gentle voice. "how are you feeling? Beau said you hit your head pretty hard."

There was something in her eyes that made me feel weary, as if she knew what had really happened.

"I'm fine," I said, wondering where exactly the boy was to anyways.

She walked over to the lightboard above me, switching it on.

"Well you look alright," She said, examining my head with her cool fingers. "Does anything hurt?"

"Really, I'm fine." I assured her, though my façade was quickly shutdown when I winced as her fingers trailed over a sore spot.

"Tender?" She asked.

"Doesn't hurt too bad."

"Well, it sounds like you were extremely lucky." She said, smiling as she signed my chart with a flourish.

"Lucky that Beau had been standing there next to me."

This seemed to set her back. "W-well yes, of course," She mumbled. "Your father is in the waiting room – you can head home now. Just let me know if you start feeling faint or have trouble with your eyesight." She then took a heavy interest in her paperwork before turning her attention to Taylor.

"I'm afraid that you'll have to stay with us just a little bit longer," she said to Taylor, and began checking her cuts.

The doctor was definitely in on it.

Hopping off of the bed, I felt myself wobble slightly, but I quickly steadied myself without incident. I walked out through the doors and began hunting down the only person I wanted to see that day.

I found him in the hospital's little cafeteria, sitting with his four other siblings – why they were here and not at school I hadn't the clue. If it were any other day, under any other circumstance, I would have probably been too scared to even approach them, but at that moment, I felt a surge of confidence flow through me, and I strutted over to the table. Besides Beau, who was keenly staring down at the table, all of them seemed to notice my approach – the golden haired boy in particular, who gave me a glare so cold it could've probably froze hell over. I returned it before walking behind Beau to tap one finger onto his shoulder.

He looked up at me, almost unsurprised by my arrival.

"Hi, can I talk to you for a moment?" I asked him nicely.

"About what?" His tone was borderline harsh, which had me taken back. Anger rose up from within, though I didn't let it consume me.

"About what happened this morning." I kept the smile plastered on, but it was becoming increasingly difficult.

He abruptly rose from his seat, before turning and walking away. I took it as a sign to follow, and I did, not looking back at the four other pale figures. Once we got to a secluded area, he whipped around, his face glaring at me.

"What do you want?" He seemed annoyed.

"How'd you get over to me so fast?" I asked, ignoring how rude he was being.

"I was standing right next to you." He made a face as if to mock how foolish I was being, but I only scoffed at this.

"That's bull, and you know it. Now, I deserve to know what had happened-"

" _Deserve?_ " He seemed astonished. "I saved your life, so I don't owe you anything."

He was being so mean, just like the first day in biology. "Why are you making such a big deal out of this?"

"Edythe, you hit your head, you don't know what you're talking about." He said flatly.

"The doctor already said there was nothing wrong with my head, so obviously it's not that."

"What do you want from me?"

"I want to know why I'm telling lies for you, and I want to know what had really happened."

"What do you think happened?"

The next part came out in a rush.

"I was about to get half of my body crushed from that van, you were several cars down from me, and yet somehow, I miraculously end up completely fine in the back of my truck with you. Explain to me how that could've possibly happened, Beaufort."

He stepped back, looking almost shocked, before regaining his posture.

"No one is going to believe that you know." He seemed scared, and _very_ defensive.

"I wasn't going to tell anyone?"

Though it was hard to tell, it seemed as if he eased slightly. "Then why does it even matter?"

"I just… I want to know the truth."

"The truth will just make you disappointed." He said with a frown.

"I-… you know what, whatever. It's really not worth this headache." I mumbled, walking past the boy and to the lobby.

I met my father there, along with what seemed to be most of the school, but my father dragged me outside before anyone had the chance to come up to me.

It was raining on the way home. My father's voice blended into the background, saying something about how my truck was completely totaled and that I would have to give my mother a call. None of that seemed to matter though, as my mind only kept wandering back to the menacing glare that Beau had given me.

I couldn't understand what his problem was, and why he was making such a big deal out of nothing – or at least what I thought was nothing.

I knew for sure that there was no possible way for him to have gotten over to me that fast, it was illogical really. But how else did he end up in the back of my truck, protecting me from all the fallen glass around us? It should've been impossible, but he did it.

There was something strange about him, I knew that from day one, but I couldn't understand what that was. He was so impenetrable. I wanted to uncover whatever he was hiding from me, and the worst part was I didn't even know why. What would I get out of this? Surely it wasn't worth the trouble if I didn't have a certain goal in mind, I would just have to figure out what that was.

I was grateful for having the rest of the day off. There was no way that I would've been able to concentrate in any of my classes. My father had asked me if I wanted anything to eat, though I turned him down, fleeing up to my room to call my mother.

She was crying when I picked up the phone, which was very unlike her. I explained everything that happened – the lying version of course. She asked me multiple times if I wanted to go back home to Chicago. I found this surprising, as she really seemed like she meant it. I of course denied said offer, and we talked a little bit more before she had to hang up.

I went to bed early that night.

It was the first night I dreamed about Beau Swan.

* * *

AN: It was so weird writing Beau angry, but I figured that's what would've happened when some random girl is trying to uncover the fact that your a vampire and possible destroy something that's taken years to perfect.


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